Lamine Yamal has gone on vacation in a private jet and displays a lifestyle that is an insult to his social class. Getting the poor to aspire to be immensely rich is the great success of the neoliberal system, which elevates the diversity of identities while hiding and camouflaging the factor that most conditions people's lives: money. But what does a kid who can't yet vote want him to know about the impoverishment of the majority that hides the immense enrichment of a select few? Raised more in La Masia and the indecent materialistic culture of business football than in Rocafonda or Torreta (where he lived with his mother, although the player only claims to be from the Mataró neighborhood, prioritizing his paternal affiliation), it's understandable that Lamine Yamal is blind to the inequalities that govern the world. Sports stars embody, more than any other media figures, extreme individualism based solely and exclusively on personal goals. They owe nothing to anyone; their innate talent blossoms spontaneously, and the money they receive for scoring goals comes out of nowhere. If most people with average incomes are completely unaware of the magma of violence, exploitation, and extractivism on which our absurd and nihilistic consumerism floats, how should we expect a perfect product of this culture, molded from childhood in the values of narcissistic triumph (does anyone know at what age they entered the farmhouse) to embrace the inequality it embodies? They'll tell us that we should be grateful for asserting himself as a young man. from the neighborhood, But what is he really talking about when he talks about that place of origin? The pride of being in the periphery in this case seems nothing more than a cliché, a topic that evokes humility and recognition of one's roots without stepping too far into the territory, an empty and romantic concept that enjoys good press and pays off in terms of marketing (for the player and for Barça, who can boast of finding talent). Note that I say all this observing the brand Lamine Yamal and not the real person behind it, whom I have no intention of judging.
With the eyes of a mother, I can't help but think that it's crazy that a 17-year-old boy dedicates himself to traveling around the world and sailing in luxury jets, or that he earns millions. Or that everything comes close to him.influencers landfills and adults with no other interest than the teenager's fame and money. Whether he's aware of it or not, all the relationships the player will have will be marked by his status as a multimillionaire and, unfortunately, will be self-serving and, therefore, false. In this sense, fame ends up being a form of isolation and a danger to a person's well-being if they don't settle for being simply—and at all times—a figure.
Ricky Rubio, interviewed by Évole, very generously gave us a few lessons about the emotional and psychological consequences of high-level sports and the early professionalization of boys and girls. While I was listening to him, I couldn't help thinking that we condemn child labor when it occurs in workshops and factories, but not when huge amounts of money are involved. We look after the rights of minors, but we accept their violations when society turns them into idols. And all idols are false because they embody ideals that are impossible for any real person to achieve. And hence the guilt that Rubio expressed so well: you will never be what others have made of you, brand created on the person for the purpose of economic gain.
The panorama that this phenomenon leaves us is a clear reflection of the world in which we live and its contrasts: Lamine Yamal dirtying the sky with his private plane, enjoying a life of luxury, while in Rocafonda the kids continue as always drowning in an eternal summer of stirrup.
